Soon we will become a song
Every decade or so Israel goes through a major war. Every war has its leading general and its leading singer. If Naomi Shemer (who wrote and sang “Jerusalem of Gold” after the Six Day War) is the soundtrack, then Moshe Dayan is the image. Every decade – a war with its pain, grief, and its songs.
Like the war so are its songs – Yom Kippur songs are grim, acknowledging the loss of young lives and the trauma. The Six Days War offers upbeat optimistic songs of heroism.
As I am writing this, it is October 156th (this was written a while ago) and a clear sound is heard in what is becoming the longest war in Israeli history (other conflicts were longer, but not defined as war). It is similar in many ways to previous wars: heroism and grief; faith in victory while admitting the price that is payed; a mixture of religious elements and secular. But there is a key difference in comparison to previous wars. This one has a Sephardi soundtrack.
The first song that was associated with the war was “stepping out of depression” - even in the darkest hours their will be a small light to shine your way back to your self, to the way up. you fall and get up but in your way.
That song wasn’t written for the war, but became the first lullaby for the pain, if you will. saying simply - it is going to be OK, and it even has an Aramaic version made by a member of the military rabbinic team. It became a leading voice for it’s promise - you can make it, you will rise above this and finds your way.
The Sephardi aspect is evident in direct mentions of God and faith, complete quotations from scripture that do not obscure the name of God or his intent and presence in Israeli life. This direct appeal to the divine offers a stark contrast to the usual ambivalence that has long characterized Israeli poetry and song, where God is both present yet vague, and the emphasis is placed on secular concerns instead of religious sentiment. While in previous decades the divine was sometimes used as a tool to emphasis the secular claim on the land, now it stands by itself.
Pe’er Tasi’s Song – “Do not fear” – uses Psalm 23 : “Do not fear, the Lord is with you. Even if I walk in the valley of the shadow of death…” It combines these verses with secular wishes for a happy, successful life. The weaving of verses from the Torah with secular, modern phrases is done here a bit differently. Rather than cutting the tail off a verse to be replaced by a secular alternative, Tasi uses the verse in its entirety, thus emphasising the religious aspect rather than leaving a shell that is filled with a secular meaning. It is the prioritisation of the religious aspect that gives the song a different feeling.
Stila and Nas - Harbu Darbu
This week’s piece started from a loving comment by my husband. He pointed out that the songs I shared with you so far represent my cultural background and ideology. So, after he finished apologizing and I unlocked the front door to let him in, I realized that he is right. The sound of this war is dual, and I showed you only one side. The other side leaves me uncomfortable with its violence – implied and explicit.
The best example is Harbu Darbu. It is Hebrew of Arabic origin, meaning Arabic words that have a specific Hebrew slang usage. Harb mean war in Arabic, close to the Hebrew word for sword, but the difference in pronunciation makes it clear that it is Arabic. It ends in the sound U to indicate the Arabic “and” connecting it to Darbu – from Arabic darab (a stem that is not used in Hebrew at all) to mean – hitting.
It promises to reach everyone that was involved in October 7th, calling them AMALEK - a biblical enemy of Israel, that GOD has ordered to be eradicated.
Israel could have chosen to think of the Palestinians as the Philistines or any other enemy of old but it the enemy that we were told to eradicate that is the star of this song.
The song names all Israeli military units that will join the war and promise they will all descend on Gaza. Wait, the song promises, we will rain on you, using the Israeli war/rain metaphor in a vile way (I will write about this metaphor eventually, sorry - I am very slow) . And then, again in Arabic, “every dog will have its day.” A derogatory phrase meaning you are like wild animals and your day will come. There is nothing divine about this song, which is purely a promise of revenge. It glorifies everything that happened in Gaza since October 7, and asks for more.
Another major difference between past and present songs is that traditional Israeli war music (yes – it is its own genre) hardy mentions the enemy. The Arab armies are almost invisible in the songs from 1948, ‘67, and ‘73. Not even during the Intifadas were the Palestinians or Arabs mentioned in songs ( other than very few, controversial examples) . The focus was rather on Israeli soldiers, their safe return home, or the safety of Israel as a nation.
“You are living in October 6th”
Any Israeli who has tried to speak about the day after the war in terms of peace and co-existence was told more than once – you are living in an October 6th world. The “conception” has shattered. “Ha conseptzia” refers to the perception of two nations caught in a gridlock that will eventually end in peace, or the idea that there are people on the “other side” that are willing to talk about a mutual future. “A world of October 6th” is the latest in an ever-expanding world of war terms and phrases that have been coined in modern Hebrew.